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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632969">GTA (is not a game)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyToaster22/pseuds/ToastyToaster22'>ToastyToaster22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Toasty's Digi AU Dump [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Gen, Sickfic with a twist, but not the way you'd think, i did too much research for this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:40:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyToaster22/pseuds/ToastyToaster22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Natsuko brushed it off the first couple times Takeru said something concerning. Maybe she shouldn't have, but in her defense, he seemed to be brushing his confusion off too. However her son was getting confused more and more often, and with it came a sense of anxiety she'd never seen in him before.</p><p>It was time to stop pretending he was fine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ichijouji Ken &amp; Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya &amp; Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi, Takaishi Takeru &amp; Takaishi Natsuko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Toasty's Digi AU Dump [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>GTA (is not a game)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is, in a weird way, a follow up to Fever Dreams. But you don't need to read that to understand this.</p><p>All you need to know is that Takeru had a very high fever recently.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Natsuko was so overcome with relief that Takeru was recovering well from his illness that it took her much too long to see that something was wrong. Something new. Of course, when she did start to get an inkling that something was off, she was not sure if something was wrong with Takeru, or with her.</p>
<hr/><p>The first sign came when she was putting groceries away in the kitchen a few days after Takeru had gone back to school. Natsuko was getting ready to start cooking when a question broke the comfortable quiet of the house.</p><p>“Hey Mom, what are you making for dinner?”</p><p>Natsuko paused in closing a cupboard door.</p><p>“What? Honey, didn’t you just ask me that? We’re having fried rice.”</p><p>Takeru turned around on the couch and poked his head over the back, his face innocently confused.</p><p>“No, I didn’t.”</p><p>The mother’s brow furrowed, tapping her fingers on the can of broth she was holding.</p><p>“Are you sure, Takeru? I swear I just told you a minute ago. You came out of your room and asked me.”</p><p>“I don’t think so, Mom. Are you okay?” His concern was palpable.</p><p>Maybe she was catching what he had or was overtired and not thinking straight. She had been working awfully hard to make up for taking two days off last week. And Natsuko had to admit she felt more drained than normal.</p><p>“I’m fine, just a little tired. Maybe I should go to bed early, huh?”</p><p>The reassuring smile her son sent her let her brush the incident off as déjà vu.</p>
<hr/><p>The second sign could have been caught if they’d had some sort a family calendar. But it was only the two of them in the house and Takeru was great at remembering his schedule, so Natsuko hadn’t bothered to buy one since the boy was twelve.</p><p>She came home from work and was surprised to see dinner wrapped up for her on the counter and Takeru doing homework at the coffee table.</p><p>“Did your practice get cancelled? I didn’t expect you home till eight,” she said as she put her coat on the rack.</p><p>Takeru sent her a funny look.</p><p>“I have practice tomorrow, Mom, not tonight.”</p><p>Huh. She thought his practices were Tuesdays and Thursdays. Had the coach changed the practice schedule because of the upcoming game? It wouldn’t be the first time.</p><p>
  <span>She let it go.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>The third one she laughed off. Probably because it wasn’t her that was confused.</p><p>Takeru walked out of his room and stopped, looking suddenly puzzled.</p><p>“What’s the matter?” She asked him, looking up from where she was folding laundry.</p><p>He didn’t answer at first, just standing there and making a lot of faces.</p><p>“I…” Takeru chuckled, an odd, forced sound. “I forgot what I came out here for.”</p><p>Natsuko laughed lightly, offering her son a sympathetic smile.</p><p>“Oh, honey, get used that. The older you get the more stuff like that happens. Give it a few minutes and it’ll come back to you.”</p><p>She went back to folding, missing the anxious look that crossed Takeru’s face before he went back to his room.</p>
<hr/><p>It was the fourth incident she couldn’t ignore. It was Saturday night, a full two weeks after Takeru’s illness. She had caught up on her work and finally had a full day off to spend with her child tomorrow. The woman was really looking forward to a relaxing Sunday with Takeru. Between him being sick and her having to spend last weekend making up for lost time, it had been over three weeks since the two of them had done anything together. The weather was getting warmer, maybe he’d like to go out to lunch by the park? Most of the restaurants had opened their outdoor seating by now.</p><p>Heartened by the idea, Natsuko headed to her son’s bedroom to see if he was interested. She leaned against the doorframe and knocked softly to get his attention.</p><p>Takeru perked up from where he was sprawled on his bed in his pajamas, reading.</p><p>“Hi Mom, what’s up?” The boy dropped his bookmark in place.</p><p>“I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out to lunch by the park tomorrow. I didn’t have any particular place in mind, but we can always figure that out when we head over there.”</p><p>Takeru frowned unexpectedly.</p><p>“Isn’t it going to be chilly?”</p><p>“Mm, I haven’t checked the weather today, but I don’t think its supposed to be too bad. We can always sit inside if it is.” Natsuko pushed off the doorframe and went to drop a kiss on his head before she went to bed herself.</p><p>She stopped when she caught sight of the book he was reading.</p><p>“Rereading that already? You must have really liked it, huh?”</p><p>Her son seemed confused by her comment. He picked up the novel and showed her the cover, his face puckering.</p><p>“This one? I’m not rereading, I haven’t even finished it yet.”</p><p>What? Natsuko could have sworn he finished the book last week. He’d loved the twist at the end and had rambled about it the whole time they ate dinner that night. What did he mean he hadn’t read the whole thing?</p><p>“Sweetheart, you must have finished it. You told me all about it,” she said skeptically.</p><p>Takeru’s blue eyes darted around, avoiding her gaze. Why was he so uncomfortable? Was there something inappropriate in the book? He didn’t look embarrassed though, just nervous.</p><p>“Takeru, what-“</p><p>“I just haven’t finished it yet. I don’t even know what’s going to happen,” her son interrupted in a rush.</p><p>Natsuko didn’t say anything right away. Takeru was such an easy-going kid, even at fifteen, and this was such a strange thing for him to get worked up over. The longer she waited, the more agitated he got, compulsively picking at his bedspread.</p><p>“Oh, okay honey. Sorry.” She dropped the subject before he got too stressed out.</p><p>Her heart felt heavy in her chest. Something weird was going on.</p><p>That night she waited until Takeru was asleep and then quietly borrowed the book from his nightstand, tiptoeing back to her own room and closing the door. In the light of her bedside lamp she skimmed the last few chapters of the fantasy novel. Every turn of the page sent her stomach dipping lower and lower.</p><p>She knew this.</p><p>She knew the plot twist at the end.</p><p>She had never read this book in her life. It had only come out last summer.</p><p>Takeru was wrong, he <em>had</em> told her already.</p><p>Natsuko pulled the blankets up to her chin, unable to bring herself to turn out the light. Her head was a swirling mess. The longer she laid there and thought about it, the more things started clicking into place, and Natsuko did not like the picture that was forming in her head.</p><p>Takeru asked her twice about dinner. He didn’t remember. He definitely missed practice last week, she had checked the next day and never found a good time to confront him about it. He had been forgetting what he was doing more and more, shrugging it off or making her laugh about it. And now he’d forgotten the entire ending of a book.</p><p>Natsuko had been scared for her child when he was sick.</p><p>Now… Now Natsuko was frightened.</p>
<hr/><p>Natsuko stirred her tea, her fingers tense. She had barely slept, and all those extra hours awake had not helped her in the least to figure out a good way to confront her son.</p><p>Did he even know he was forgetting things? He was so defensive last night, like he thought it was possible he was wrong but refused to admit it.</p><p>Her brain needed more time to absorb this… whatever this was. She resolved not to say anything to him, at least for a bit. Natsuko would spend the day with him and observe. Then they would talk.</p><p>Takeru dragged himself out of bed an hour later, acting like the same groggy child she watched grow up. Breakfast felt normal, but the longer he was awake, the more she started to get hints of anxiety from him. He checked the time often, his smiles started to feel shaky, and by the time lunch neared he was fidgeting almost constantly. Natsuko wasn’t confident it was a good idea to go out to lunch anymore. The urge to ask him what was going on welled up tight in her chest and the mother wasn’t sure she would be able to hold it in much longer.</p><p>She didn’t know if she should be relieved or upset when she asked if he’d rather stay in for lunch and he agreed with no hesitation.</p><p>They ate their dumplings in deafening silence. Natsuko didn’t even taste the food. A war waged in her mind, one side demanding to know what was wrong this instant, and the other wanting to give Takeru the opportunity to come to her on his own. Giving someone the third degree was a surefire way to make them clam up or get defensive. That was the last thing Takeru needed right now.</p><p>Except Natsuko was never the most patient woman.</p><p>She tried her hardest, but in the end, she cracked before she had even cleared her plate.</p><p>“Takeru, I-“</p><p>“Mom?”</p><p>They spoke at the same time, both looking up at the other in surprise. Takeru’s face was filled with unease, and Natsuko swallowed tightly, gesturing for him to go first.</p><p>“Um, Mom? Did you… Did you move my book?”</p><p>Well, that was not what Natsuko was hoping he’d say, but her son looked so nervous that she answered him seriously.</p><p>“I did, honey. I just wanted to take a peek at it. I forgot to put it back. I can go grab it if you’d like?”</p><p>Relief swept through his whole body and he slumped back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.</p><p>“No, it's fine. I finished it already, I just wanted to know where it went,” he mumbled.</p><p>Natsuko stilled. There it was. He’d already read it. She hadn't expected him to say it. That didn’t make any sense, just last night he’d said he hadn’t. If he was forgetting things, why would he remember now?</p><p>“So, you did finish it?” Her question didn’t come out much like a question.</p><p>Now it was Takeru’s turn to freeze, a horrified, guilty expression taking over his face. Like someone who’d just realized they confessed to their own crime.</p><p>Neither of them said anything.</p><p>“Takeru?” Natsuko finally ventured, her voice gentle as not to startle him.</p><p>Her son had to put down his chopsticks when his hands started shaking. He kept staring at the table like it would save him, his eyes wide and watery. Natsuko’s heart thundered in her ears. With the exception of the half lucid, fever induced tears he’d shed when he was sick, he hadn’t cried in quite some time. The thought that he was just across the table from her, scared and trying to hold himself together, was beyond alarming.</p><p>“Takeru, what is it?” she asked as calmly as she could. Which was impressive seeing as she was screaming on the inside.</p><p>Takeru blinked, the first tears dripping down his cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, wringing his fingers together.</p><p>“I…Mom?” His voice wobbled and Natsuko had to stop herself from scooping her baby up. He was fifteen. It was good that he was talking to her at all.</p><p>“Yeah? I’m right here, honey.”</p><p>“I…” He choked on an unsteady breath. “I think there’s something wrong with me."</p>
<hr/><p>The next few days were a hectic blur of doctor’s appointments. Everyone was rushing them from office to office, pushing their schedules around to fit Takeru in, because apparently, a teenager with sudden memory loss was serious.</p><p>Except he had no other symptoms.</p><p>Nothing abnormal showed on the CT scan. Or the MRI.</p><p>No recent head trauma.</p><p>No history of epilepsy.</p><p>Every blood test came back negative.</p><p>The questions started getting stranger.</p><p>No, Takeru had no history of migraines.</p><p>No, he had not recently been exposed to sudden extreme temperatures.</p><p>No, he wasn’t sexually active that she knew of, oh my gosh he was fifteen. What did that have to do with anything?</p><p>And finally…</p><p>Yes. Yes, Takeru had gone through a significantly stressful situation recently. He was recovering from a nasty bout of the flu, but…</p><p>No, His fever had not gotten high enough to do brain damage. It had not been anywhere near 107.6. He’d topped out around 103. High, but not that unusual.</p>
<hr/><p>When Natsuko pulled the car into the parking lot at the hospital on the fifth day of testing, Takeru turned to her, suddenly baffled.</p><p>“Why are we at the hospital? Did someone get hurt?” Takeru asked worriedly.</p><p>Natsuko pushed down her panic. Takeru had not had a memory skip outside of the house that she knew of. How was he supposed to answer the specialist’s questions when he couldn’t even remember why they were there?</p><p>“You have an appointment, sweetie. Nothing to worry about. Come on, we don’t want to be late.”</p><p>Takeru followed her inside to the receptionist’s desk without fuss, but the confused expression never left his face. He looked like he was wracking his brain for an answer that just would not come.</p><p>“Excuse me, we have a nine o’clock with Doctor Ito. Last name is Takaishi.” Natsuko kept an eye on her son while the woman behind the desk nodded and pulled up their file.</p><p>“Hold on one moment, ma’am. I’ll notify him that you’ve arrived.”</p><p>Takeru stared at her. Then looked around at the building in alarm.</p><p>“Why are we at the hospital?”</p><p>The question was identical to the one he asked only a minute before. It was so exact when this happened that he sounded like a broken record. It was unnerving.</p><p>“You… have an appointment, sweetheart.”</p><p>“I do?” He was edging towards scared.</p><p>Natsuko had no idea how to comfort him.</p><p>The receptionist was watching, calm eyes taking in the situation with a grace Natsuko entirely lacked.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Natsuko addressed the woman, trying not to sound as frazzled as she felt. “He’s very confused right now.”</p><p>“Mom, why am I here?” Takeru pulled his hands up into the sleeves of his sweatshirt, something she hadn’t seen him do in years. Her heart hurt.</p><p>The receptionist typed in earnest, lowering her voice.</p><p>“Is he currently experiencing an episode?”</p><p>An…episode?</p><p>“I… yes?” She kept her voice quiet as well.</p><p>“How long ago did it start?”</p><p>Natsuko tried to send Takeru a reassuring smile, but he was too busy giving them a suspicious look to notice.</p><p>“Just before we arrived. A couple minutes ago, I’d guess.” She managed to subtly wipe her increasingly sweaty hands on her jacket.</p><p>Takeru was sent back to the specialist immediately. Without her. He went with the nurse unquestioningly, but before the door could shut fully, Natsuko saw him send a last minute look her way, panic in his blue eyes.</p><p>Natsuko paced in the waiting room, debating calling Hiroaki. She hadn’t told anyone else what was going on, besides telling her boss that Takeru wasn’t well again and she needed to take more vacation time. She didn’t want to call her ex without knowing exactly what they were dealing with. She wanted a name for this. Once they knew what was going on they could start treating it, but until then she was stuck being terrified of all the possibilities.</p><p>She walked the waiting room for over an hour. No one interrupted her. The other occupants of the waiting room looked as strung out as she did, and it did nothing to make her feel better.</p><p>Her fears were not assuaged when the door opened and Takeru walked in with Doctor Ito behind him. Natsuko’s stomach dropped. Takeru was wide-eyed and obviously still disoriented. He beelined to her side immediately, not saying a word.</p><p>She did not get to check on him before the doctor approached them. He was much too chipper, exclaiming what good luck it was that they were able to see Takeru during an episode. That the information they were able to gather would be immensely helpful and they could potentially have results by the end of the following day. Natsuko’s heart jumped around erratically.</p><p>They might have a diagnosis?</p><p>Takeru waited until Doctor Ito said his goodbyes and left the waiting room to curl into his mother. Natsuko squeezed him, hoping to comfort him. He didn’t hug her back, his arms pinned to his front like he was too scared to open up even that much.</p><p>“I don’t understand what’s going on,” he whispered into her shoulder.</p><p>“Its okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Natsuko held him closer, wishing he was small enough to carry out to the car. He was still small for fifteen, but he was shooting up every day and was already to her nose. It wouldn’t be long before he passed her.</p><p>Natsuko made sure she got Takeru home and snuggled up on the couch with a snack before she closed herself in her room for a proper meltdown.</p>
<hr/><p>It was late in the afternoon the next day that the hospital called and asked them to come in at their earliest convenience. They were there in an hour.</p><p>Natsuko bounced her leg in anticipation. She stopped herself from biting her nails in front of Takeru, but the urge was so strong she had to keep her hands firmly tucked under her arms. Her son sat beside her, eyes glazed over and staring his knees. He stopped pretending to read ten minutes ago. The constant questions and tests were overwhelming her, a grown woman, so she could only imagine the toll they were taking on Takeru.</p><p>How on earth did people handle this? She knew that they were actually exceedingly lucky. It wasn’t uncommon for a diagnosis to take months. A week was unbearable as it was. Any longer and she thought she might actually spontaneously combust.</p><p>“Mrs. Takaishi?” A low voice startled her from her stressful thoughts. Beside her, Takeru jerked his head up as well.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>There were two men in front of her. One, a tall, older gentleman with a clipboard, and the second, a much younger man in scrubs. The badge clipped to his cartoon covered lanyard read that he was an intern.</p><p>“Wonderful to meet you. My name is Shinya Hinohara. I work very closely with Doctor Ito and we have been looking over your son’s case. I was wondering if you would join me in my office? Ikeda here will stay here and keep Takeru company.”</p><p>Natsuko liked him better than the others already. He had a soft, familiar lilt to his voice that set her at ease. It also helped that he was probably going to actually give her answers. The fact that he also wasn’t going to leave Takeru alone in the waiting room certainly didn’t hurt either.</p><p>“You’ll be okay, honey?” she asked her son as she stood.</p><p>Takeru was tense, but besides a brief bit of confusion before lunch, he had been present all day.</p><p>“I’ll be fine, Mom.”</p><p>She nodded in thanks to the intern, Ikeda, as he filled her now empty seat. Natsuko followed the doctor around the corner, overhearing the young man trying to start a conversation with Takeru about basketball.</p><p>Doctor Hinohara led her back through a maze of examination rooms and offices, finally stopping by a nice office on the left and gesturing for her to enter first.</p><p>She settled herself in one of the comfortable chairs, twining her fingers in the strap of her purse.</p><p>“Thank you for being so flexible with your schedule, Mrs. Takaishi. Its been instrumental in getting enough information for a quick diagnosis.” The doctor took a seat across from her and pulled out a thick pamphlet from a drawer. He didn’t hand it to her yet.</p><p>“So, you think you know what’s wrong?” Natsuko found she was a little breathless.</p><p>“We do, and forgive us for not giving you any information sooner. We had a suspicion of what was happening, but we needed to be sure it could not be any of the other possibilities. You see, there are many ways amnesia can present itself, and without understanding which manner of memory loss we were dealing with, we could not accurately advise any treatment.”</p><p>Natsuko was confused.</p><p>“Amnesia? I thought that had been dismissed after I said Takeru hadn’t had a recent head injury?”</p><p>The older man smiled like he was expecting such a question.</p><p>“Amnesia is a tricky thing. The amnesia that you see on television and in movies is incredibly inaccurate. It most closely resembles the effects of Retrograde Amnesia, though the loss of long-term memories is usually caused by brain tumors. It is possible to have a traumatic brain injury with the result of this type of amnesia, but it's far less common than shows would have you believe. And those memories never conveniently return with another blow to the head.</p><p>"A more common form of memory loss is called Anterograde Amnesia, in which the patient cannot form new memories. Their recollection may be as short as ten to thirty seconds. It is short term memory loss, and once it presents itself, it is almost always permanent.”</p><p>Natsuko’s blood turned to ice. Permanent?</p><p>“Luckily, we were able to dismiss that option right away. This is actually the form of amnesia that occurs after a severe blow to the head and significant damage is done to the Hippocampus.”</p><p>Natsuko tried to keep the irritation off her face. If Takeru didn’t have it, why mention it?</p><p>“What your son seems to be experiencing is this-” Doctor Hinohara handed her the pamphlet.</p><p>She took in the stock photo of an older woman scratching her head in confusion. Above it read the letters GTA.</p><p>GTA… wasn’t that a new videogame? One of her coworkers had been complaining about it not too long ago. It was super violent or something. Natsuko assumed her son’s issues had nothing to do with that though.</p><p>“Global Transient Amnesia,” he stated. “The least understood of all the forms of amnesia, but also the least serious. It presents itself in sudden, unpredictable memory loss episodes. The memory loss may be just the last few minutes or months back. In rare episodes, a person could forget the events of up to a year ago. What makes GTA different is that those memories slowly return over the course of the episode. They do not remain lost. An episode may last anywhere from two to ten hours, though it is not impossible for an episode to last longer.</p><p>"Because the episodes are unpredictable, GTA is often accompanied by stress, general agitation, and mood swings. The person is aware that at any time they may forget where they are or what they were doing, but they have no control over the situation. It can be frightening and frustrating.</p><p>"It sounds alarming, but I assure you that Takeru is in no danger. GTA is physically harmless. There is no brain damage and there has never been a case that has remained permanent. These episodes will eventually decline and end on their own.”</p><p>“Why is this happening to him?” she wondered aloud.</p><p>“The direct causes of GTA are still not well understood. There are links to blood pressure issues and people with a history of migraines, but ultimately the most common precursor to its onset has been strong emotional triggers. You said that he had very recently had the flu?” Hinohara let his question trail off.</p><p>“He… Takeru had terrible nightmares the whole time. He was so feverish he couldn’t tell that they weren’t real. Are you saying my son has short term memory loss because he got scared?”</p><p>That just didn’t sound like it could be a real thing.</p><p>“As strange as it is, yes. The human brain is a powerful machine.”</p><p>Natsuko wanted to lie down. She needed to process.</p><p>“Is there any treatment? Anything I can do?” She flipped through the little booklet without reading a word.</p><p>Doctor Hinohara sighed and gave her an apologetic smile.</p><p>“Unfortunately, there is no cure. Like I said, after some time the episodes will simply end on their own. Until then, there are plenty of safety measures and helpful things that you can do at home that will ease the stress of your situation…"</p>
<hr/><p>Natsuko’s world continued to be a mess of worry, but life went on.</p><p>They’d been advised to let friends and family know ASAP, so that Takeru could do his best to return to normal life. If he had an episode the people around him would be informed enough to keep him safe and grounded.</p><p>Hiroaki and Yamato had not taken it well. Yamato had immediately wanted to come home from college to see him, but Takeru had reasoned that it was almost finals and Yamato could wait a week or so to see him. Natsuko got the feeling that Takeru actually really wanted his brother, but hell if he was going to let Yamato miss all his exams. Yamato compromised by vowing to call every night until them.</p><p>The high school had to be informed, and that was the strangest conversation with the principle she’d ever had. They were pretty accommodating, allowing Takeru to retake tests once each, but in general they seemed skeptical that he would be getting much out of his classes. Natsuko absolutely detested that he was going back to school, but Hinohara had been firm when he said that Takeru was perfectly healthy and bed rest would do nothing for him. That teenagers needed fresh air and being cooped up would most likely just make him more irritable.</p><p>Patamon didn’t understand human brains very well. The poor digimon had panicked, frantically asking if Takeru remembered him. He was now spending a lot more time in the apartment, keeping an eye on Takeru when Natsuko couldn’t. She appreciated his presence, and Takeru seemed to flip back and forth between loving the constant company and feeling annoyed that he was being babysat.</p><p>Their apartment had completely been taken over by sticky notes and alarms. On his doctor’s recommendation, Takeru wrote things down constantly. Reminders of what day it was, of when he had basketball, of when homework assignments were due, of when to attend Daisuke’s games, and Hikari’s photography show. He set himself innumerable alarms. If Natsuko weren’t so happy that they helped, she would be maddened by the frequent chirping and beeping from his phone and watch.</p><p>The watch was important. As soon as Takeru got the feeling that things were slipping away from him, he started the timer. It would run until he could recall everything again, and they would clock the episode in a little notebook on the counter. It didn’t really do anything, but it let them track if the episodes were getting better or worse. Hinohara told them to let him know if an episode lasted longer than twenty-four hours. Which thankfully, Takeru hadn’t even gotten close to.</p><p>It also let Natsuko know if he was in the middle of an episode when she came home.</p><p>Takeru seemed to be adjusting okay.</p><p>His anxiety was always a factor in how his day went. When Natsuko was home on the weekends she could watch an entire episode progress. It would be fascinating if it weren’t so upsetting.</p><p>Takeru would often be doing homework when they started, he was always having to redo schoolwork these days. It would be subtle at first. Glancing around like he’d heard something creepy, and then a moment of realization. He’d frantically start the timer on his watch and then jump back to his homework to try and get another question finished before it all slipped away. It wouldn’t be long before he was looking at the paper like it was gibberish. Sometimes he would see the date in the corner and freak out. Sometimes he would see it and confidently erase it, rewriting a different one, sometimes weeks prior. Sometimes he would walk out of a room and jump when he saw her, asking when the heck she got home. Sometimes he would just stand in the middle of a room and look terrified. When that happened she would gently take him aside and have him help her with some methodical task, laundry or cleaning or making dinner. While they did their chore, she’d explain what was happening to him, showing him the notebook and the ongoing timer on his watch.</p><p>Sometimes he hugged her and said thanks.</p><p>Sometimes he just wanted to be left alone.</p>
<hr/><p>Natsuko groaned as she took her shoes off her poor aching feet. Takeru had been sent home from school yesterday when an episode went over four hours. The school declared there being no point in him staying in the nurse’s office any longer and had contacted her to pick him up. They didn’t trust him to walk home on his own.</p><p>She left work two hours early and had to stay two hours late today to make up for it. She’d called the house number and Takeru’s cell, but he didn’t call her back.</p><p>It made her nervous.</p><p>She put her purse on the counter and looked around. There was no dinner wrapped for her. That was okay. Takeru had a lot on his plate. He was probably in the middle of an episode. She took a deep breath.</p><p>“Takeru? Honey, are you home?” She tried to sound casual.</p><p>She came around the island when there was no answer.</p><p>His door was closed, and Patamon sat outside it, looking sadly up at her.</p><p>“He told me to go away. He’s really upset.”</p><p>Natsuko hesitated. Through all of this, Takeru had rarely gotten angry. Scared, yes. Frustrated, yes. She had never seen him fight with his partner. Though Yamato claimed it had happened a few times when they were younger.</p><p>“You go pick something out for dinner, Pata.” She crouched and rubbed the little digimon’s back. “I’ll deal with my cranky kid, okay? Thanks for watching him.”</p><p>Patamon perked up at the praise and fluttered towards the kitchen.</p><p>The mother got to her feet and braced herself for whatever was beyond her child’s door.</p><p>“Takeru, I’m coming in.” She knocked on the wood as she opened it.</p><p>She stared in disbelief at the sight in front of her.</p><p>The bedroom was a disaster. Nothing was broken, but it looked like it had been ransacked. Books were open all over the desk and the floor. Takeru’s backpack lay sagging against the bedframe, its contents spilled all across the bedspread. Every binder was open. Every folder had been emptied.</p><p>Takeru sat cross-legged in the middle on it on the floor, fingers knotted in his hair, and staring down at a week-old test he’d taken.</p><p>“Honey…?”</p><p>Her son jerked his head up at her voice. His face was blotchy, and his eyes were wide. He looked disturbed.</p><p>“What is all this?” His voice was slow, a forced even tone.</p><p>“What do you mean, Takeru? It's school work. Are you okay?” She wasn’t close enough to see the timer.</p><p>“No!”</p><p>His shout startled her. He never yelled.</p><p>“No, nothing is okay! What the hell is all this?” He jumped to his feet, gesturing around him like someone else had made the mess. Maybe he didn’t remember doing it? “What’s going on? I don’t- I’m good at school! What the heck is with all these failed tests, Mom?”</p><p>Natsuko took a small step into the room, unsure what to do.</p><p>“I didn’t take these!” he cried. “I didn’t take any of these! Why are they all so bad? It's not- Why are you just staring at me?”</p><p>He was so angry. She hadn’t seen him so worked up since he was little. Not since the divorce.</p><p>“These are <em>wrong</em>!” He backed away from the tests on the bed like they were going to bite him. “Everything is wrong and I don’t know why. I feel like its some sick joke or a dream or something but Patamon said I have amnesia and- and that… That can’t be right! I’m not hurt! I want to wake up!”</p><p>Natsuko flinched at his volume.</p><p>Takeru turned to her, looking away from the mess of papers.</p><p>“Why is it April?! We just- We just had Christmas! It's supposed to be cold out! It- it snowed yesterday! Mom, I don’t… I can’t- I don’t understand and I hate it! Nothing makes any sense!”</p><p>Natsuko did nothing as the anger turned to fear and Takeru’s eyes suddenly welled with tears.</p><p>“I didn’t take those tests, but-but that’s my handwriting! And there’s retakes in there. So many of them! Weeks worth! I don’t want this! I don’t know what’s happening!”</p><p>His breaths were speeding up. He was panicking.</p><p>“Fix this!”</p><p>Tears spilled down Natsuko’s face.</p><p>“I can’t, baby. I’m sorry. I can’t.”</p><p>Takeru burst into hysterical tears and Natsuko finally got her frozen muscles to move. She crossed to him in an instant and pulled him into her arms.</p><p>“I’m so sorry."</p>
<hr/><p>Takeru’s mood only went downhill from there. He went out with his friends less and less. His calls with Yamato were short and bland. The new school year had just started, and his grades were already in the toilet. He was always grouchy, snapping at people for the smallest comments. At Patamon. At her.</p><p>It was wearing her down.</p><p>Doctor Hinohara said it was to be expected. That sometimes GTA was harder for family members than it was for the patient. He recommended counseling, but when she mentioned it, Takeru glared at her and closed himself in his room.</p><p>It had been over two months.</p><p>Natsuko could only pretend not to hear him crying at night for so long before she snapped.</p>
<hr/><p>There was an intervention of sorts. It hadn’t even been her idea. Hikari, Miyako, and Daisuke showed up one Friday night with movies and two large bags from the Inou’s store. Natsuko spent the next five hours closed in her room with candles and a book, calming music playing in her headphones. It wasn’t quite as good as a spa day, but she would take what she could get.</p><p>When she ventured to the bathroom the first time, the whole apartment smelled like popcorn and the kids were all smashed together on the couch watching Finding Nemo. She snuck past them, peeking at her son as she went. His eyes were wide, watching Dory with something like respect in his unwavering gaze.</p><p>The second time she came out was to get a glass of water. The woman was worried when she opened her door and was accosted by the sounds of crying, but it was nothing like the angry crying she had been hearing lately.</p><p>Daisuke had moved over to the armchair, studiously ignoring all the emotions over on the couch. Takeru was curled up with Hikari and a blanket, both of them crying at the scene on the TV. Miyako spotted her creeping towards the kitchen and slipped off the couch, quietly joining her in getting a drink.</p><p>“What on earth are you watching now?” Natsuko asked in a hushed whisper. The music in the movie sounded lighthearted, but the character on screen was singing and bawling at the same time.</p><p>“It’s an American film. Its actually pretty silly to be honest, but there’s a girl in the movie with Anterograde Amnesia. I looked for some films that might make Takeru feel a little less alone, and this one popped up as funny, but it's also apparently pretty accurate. There was another one that is supposed to be a really accurate depiction of short-term memory loss, but I read its kind of upsetting and intense. I figured we would steer clear of the traumatic stuff, you know?”</p><p>Natsuko found herself smiling.</p><p>“Than you so much for coming over tonight. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Takeru’s just been having such a hard time lately and I don’t know what to do for him anymore. Its so unsettling to see him like this for so long. He’s always been such a happy child…”</p><p>Miyako patted her back comfortingly.</p><p>“You’re doing great. Everybody needs a break once in a while. Takeru still thinks the world of you, I promise. I think half the reason he’s been so cranky lately is that he knows how much this is scaring you and he can’t do anything about it.”</p><p>“He doesn’t need to do anything. He just needs to relax and let his mind heal,” Natsuko sighed, not surprised by the information.</p><p>“He’ll get there,” Miyako said gently. “Eventually this will blow over.”</p><p>Takeru was in better spirits for a week before he had another major meltdown and ended up yelling at nobody in particular. Just yelling.</p><p>Natsuko shipped him off to spend a few days with Hiroaki and Yamato, who had come home from college for a few days, opting to do his classwork online.</p><p>Hiroaki reported to her, somewhat hysterically, that Yamato had been so overbearing that Takeru had blown up. Apparently, his response to one of Yamato’s suggestions was to ‘shove it up his ass’, and the boys proceeded to beat the tar out of each other. Hiroaki left them to it because no one was getting seriously injured and it was good for both of them to let off some steam.</p><p>Takeru was returned to her Sunday night looking no worse for wear and smiling again.</p><p>She wished it would last.</p>
<hr/><p>Natsuko rubbed her forehead. She had been getting tension headaches off and on for over a week now. One of her coworkers half-heartedly joked that they were sympathy pains for her son, but Natsuko hadn’t been in the mood to find that funny.</p><p>Takeru had been quiet the past few days. Not quite as irritable as he’d been the past couple weeks, but withdrawn, almost resigned. He answered a lot of her questions with shrugs or one-word answers.</p><p>She sighed slowly, pushing as much air out of her lungs as possible. One day at a time. One hour at a time. It was Sunday. Takeru didn’t have school. She wasn’t going to work. She could potentially relax. Maybe take Takeru out of the house and get some fresh air. The weather was perfect. It was almost June. He’d have summer break soon, and he could really take a <em>break</em>.</p><p>Out of habit, Natsuko leaned over the counter and opened the little notebook they’d logged all his episodes in. Flipped through March. Through April. May. God, the beginning of the month had been atrocious. Takeru had been having multiple episodes a day for up to four days in a row. No wonder he’d been in such a bad mood.</p><p>She slowed when she reached this week. One on Monday that lasted three and a half hours. One on Wednesday that had been just about five. And that… that was it?</p><p>She double checked the dates.</p><p>Nothing Thursday.</p><p>Nothing Friday.</p><p>Nothing yesterday.</p><p>“Hey, sweetheart?” Natsuko called, not moving from her place in the kitchen.</p><p>Takeru’s head poked up over the back of the couch. She secretly hoped he never shook the habit. It was cute no matter how old he got or how annoyed he looked, which right now ranked maybe a six out of ten.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Have you been writing down all your episodes?”</p><p>Takeru frowned at her.</p><p>“Of course, I have.”</p><p>She hated to push him these days, but she had to.</p><p>“All of them? You’re sure?”</p><p>Takeru flopped back down so that she couldn’t see him.</p><p>“Uh, <em>yeah</em>. I’m sure,” he ground out, a little bit of attitude slipping into his tone.</p><p>She pursed her lips at that but chose to ignore it. There were more important things right now. If he was telling the truth…?</p><p>“So, you haven’t had anything happen since Wednesday?”</p><p>Silence rang through the apartment following the question.</p><p>Then Takeru moved, very slowly peeking up again.</p><p>“Wednesday?”</p><p>“Yes. There isn’t anything written down here since then,” Natsuko studied her son’s face, he looked almost suspicious.</p><p>“And it's… Today's Sunday, right?”</p><p>“Yes. You aren’t having one right now, are you?”</p><p>She knew immediately that he wasn’t when he cautiously looked down at his watch instead of protesting vehemently or asking what she was talking about.</p><p>“Uh, no. I’m not.” He was doing everything slowly, like if he moved to fast the rug might get pulled out from under him.</p><p>“Okay. No episodes in three days. That’s great, Takeru.” She didn’t want either of them to get their hopes up and then crushed if he had another bout of memory loss that night, or tomorrow. Three days was great, but it wasn’t that long.</p><p>They both went back to their tasks quietly. Neither one of them wanted to say any of the thoughts rushing through their heads.</p><p>The last thing they wanted to do was jinx it.</p>
<hr/><p>Takeru happily listened to Daisuke’s endless chatter on the train. He had a whole week of completed homework passed back to him today, as well as the results from two quizzes. Solid B’s on both of them. The sun was warm on his back and strong enough for him to be looking forward to changing into a t-shirt once they got to his friend’s house.</p><p>Eight days. Eight whole days without an episode. Today didn’t count until he went to bed, but it was past four and nothing yet. Then it would be nine.</p><p>It was amazing what it did for his sanity.</p><p>It made him want to have fun again. His mother was quietly thrilled. They hadn’t said a word about it in the house. There were looks exchanged and smothered smiles, but it felt almost taboo to say anything about the streak in fear of ruining it.</p><p>Takeru was happy to see her enjoy herself again. She’d run herself ragged taking care of him which he admitted was no picnic. He’d make it up to her somehow.</p><p>“So, what do you want to do, man? We’ll have about an hour before Ken comes over, so it’s your pick.”</p><p>Takeru’s stomach growled. Luckily it was too loud on the train for anyone to hear.</p><p>“Should we pick up some food before we head to your place? It's so nice out.”</p><p>Daisuke grinned. The boy loved to cook.</p><p>“Sure thing! What do you want to make? Oh! Should we surprise Ken with one of his favorites? I swear I thought I heard him say he was craving some gyudon last weekend. That’s easy to make, even you probably couldn’t screw it up. Want that?”</p><p>Takeru scowled playfully at the rude comment.</p><p>“Wow, thanks. I don’t actually completely suck at cooking. I know it doesn’t exactly run in my family, but if Nii-san can learn to cook in spite of Mom and Dad, I think I can follow your directions.” He broke into a smile again. “Gyudon sounds like heaven to be honest.”</p><p>They got off a stop early to run to the nearest grocery, having fun picking out the ingredients and making fun of each other as they went.</p><p>Takeru had missed this. Just being out and about in the good weather. He rooted through the onions, searching for a good one, pearly and firm.</p><p>“Got one yet?”</p><p>Takeru startled, dropping the onion he’d picked up and turning abruptly. Daisuke hadn’t been there a second ago, had he? His heart thumped uncomfortably fast. His hands felt clammy, inching towards his watch.</p><p>“Woah, sorry? I didn’t mean to scare you. I just walked over,” Daisuke said genuinely, a careful look on his face.</p><p>Takeru waited for the anxious tingle. For the strange feeling of wrongness. Of wondering why he was with Daisuke or why they were in a grocery store. He didn’t want this. He was on day eight. Please.</p><p>It didn’t come. His thumb hovered over the timer button. Daisuke didn’t move.</p><p>Takeru blinked.</p><p>“I’m okay?” It came out hushed. He swallowed, letting himself relax. Nothing was happening. Daisuke just caught him off guard. “I’m okay. Just freaked me out for a sec.”</p><p>Daisuke eyed him, nodding resolutely. “Did you get an onion, then?”</p><p>Takeru picked up what he was pretty sure was the one he’d dropped.</p><p>“Yup. Here you go.” He dropped it in the basket and they headed over to the check-out lines.</p><p>He was okay. Nothing happened.</p><p>The boys made their way back to Daisuke’s place in no particular hurry. Gyudon didn’t take long to make after all. They joked around, shoving each other as they climbed the stairs to the apartment. It felt lazy to take the elevator when he was only on the third floor.</p><p>Daisuke’s mom was home already and greeted Takeru like she hadn’t seen him in years. It had been months, Takeru figured, but they didn’t spend a lot of time at Daisuke’s place because of Jun for the most part. Now that she was seventeen and applying for colleges she had chilled out a bit. Enough for Daisuke to be okay with Jun and ‘the little brother of famous rock star, Yamato Ishida’ in the same room.</p><p>Ken arrived as they were finishing up making the gyudon, which Takeru did not mess up at all, thank you very much. It turned out delicious. The leftovers were packaged up for when Daisuke’s dad came home from work and they boys headed into Daisuke’s bedroom to chill and play videogames.</p><p>At the end of the first game, Takeru stretched his arms out and looked at the window. It was almost dark. That was a little surprising, he didn’t think they’d been playing all that long.</p><p>“Hey Daisuke, does your mom want help with dinner?” he asked politely.</p><p>Daisuke and Ken exchanged a brief, nervous glance.</p><p>“We already ate, Takeru. You don’t remember?” Ken’s voice was calm. Too calm.</p><p>It gave him goosebumps. He also knew Ken was right, because thinking about it, he wasn’t hungry at all.</p><p>That wasn’t right.</p><p>Oh shit.</p><p>Takeru pushed the timer button, staring at his friends with wide, desperate eyes. He didn't want this. Eight days. Eight days, right? That was still good. He didn’t, wait, eight what? Why was that important?</p><p>Something was wrong. Something bad. Takeru could feel his pulse quicken. His breathing sped up. He wasn’t… He wasn’t home?</p><p>“I don’t- Daisuke, I don’t remember coming over,” he had to say that before something bad happened. He had to.</p><p>“That’s okay, buddy. That doesn’t matter. You’re here with us and you’re perfectly okay, alright?” Daisuke sounded completely at ease. Practiced almost. It unnerved him even more.</p><p>He shook his head. Anxiety twisted in his chest. It was like he was supposed to remember something. Something important, and he couldn’t remember, he was forgetting, and that was bad. Forgetting was bad, what was he supposed to remember?</p><p>Takeru looked down. His watch timer was running. That was weird, he never used that thing. He reached down to click it off and a hand grabbed his wrist.</p><p>He jerked up, alarmed to see Ken holding onto him. When had he gotten there? Where was he? He wasn’t home?</p><p>“Don’t touch that, Takeru. You need it to run, okay?” Ken sounded nervous.</p><p>Why did he need his watch to run?</p><p>“Why am I here?” Was what tumbled out of his mouth instead.</p><p>Ken let go of him, backing off a little.</p><p>“We’re just having a guy’s night. Playing some videogames. You lost the first round, you know. Why do we even bother playing with Ken anyway? We always lose,” Daisuke chuckled.</p><p>Takeru blinked.</p><p>Daisuke was holding onto his hand, writing on it with sharpie.</p><p>“What the heck are you doing?” He yanked his hand away. When had Daisuke come over?</p><p>Takeru whipped his head around in confusion. This was not his bedroom. When the actual hell had he gone to Daisuke’s?</p><p>“I was helping you out, Takeru. You asked me to do this.”</p><p>What did he mean, he asked him to write on him? It sounded like a joke, but Daisuke was looking at him with way too much weight in his gaze.</p><p>Takeru looked down at his hand, his heart in his throat. A message was scrawled across his palm.</p><p>
  <em>You have amnesia. Today is June 2<sup>nd</sup>. Relax</em>
</p><p>That, that couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be June. He’d just been, no, that was too early… It was just Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? Just a week or so ago? It had to be right, but it sounded wrong. Everything felt wrong. He felt so hot and sweaty, his chest hurt. He kind of felt like he was going to cry.</p><p>“You’re okay. Takeru, I promise you’re alright. You’re just here with me and Daisuke. We’re playing some videogames. Do you want to try again?” Ken smiled reassuringly at him and Takeru felt himself calm infinitesimally.</p><p>He was with his friends. Playing games. If they claimed nothing was wrong… There was no real reason for them to lie to him.</p><p>“I have amnesia?” he asked shakily.</p><p>“Yeah,” Ken answered with a nod. “You’ve had it for a while. It comes and goes, but you can still have fun. Just don’t touch your watch.”</p><p>His watch? He didn’t usually wear one.</p><p>He looked down and Ken was right, a watch sat on his wrist, the timer running as they spoke. It crept past eleven minutes.</p><p>“I don’t understand. Did I get hurt?”</p><p>“Nah, you got yourself all freaked out when you were sick and apparently this can happen. You’re the youngest case the doctors around here have ever seen, so good job.” Daisuke shot him a thumbs up.</p><p>Takeru’s stomach squirmed. This was a lot to take in. He had <em>amnesia</em>? And his mom let him out of her sight? It was almost funny that that was the part that was hardest to believe.</p><p>“You can go home if you really want to,” Ken offered. “We let your mom know you’re having an episode and she said she can come pick you up if you’d rather ride it out at your own house. We totally understand if you do.”</p><p>Takeru took a few breaths. Shit, this was a lot.</p><p>“I- I mean, its not hurting me, is it?” He was anxious and his hand itched where the ink was, but otherwise he felt okay. Not hurt. Not sick.</p><p>“No, you’re fine. It’s a temporary condition, not like, a disease. You've been doing a lot better lately.”</p><p>“Yeah, and if you want to stay, man, we don’t mind having to remind you where you are and stuff. We’ve done it before,” Daisuke said proudly, clapping him on the shoulder.</p><p>Takeru bit his lip.</p><p>“I guess I’d rather stay here then? I bet my mom needs some time off if she’s been dealing with this for a while.”</p><p>Both teens in front of his broke into wide smiles.</p><p>“Awesome! What game do you want to play?” Daisuke cried.</p>
<hr/><p>Eight days was taken over by twelve. And then he dipped back to six, and four. Then Takeru went a full two weeks without a single episode. Instead of celebrating, his brain punished him with two in one day, ruining an afternoon with his dad. But the next one didn’t come until nearly July.</p><p>There wasn’t a next one after that.</p><p>Takeru peeled the last of the sticky notes off his desk, tossing them into the trash with a vindicated grin. He pinned his last test on the corkboard above it, proudly displaying his A-.</p><p>A soft knock on the doorframe told him it was almost time for dinner.</p><p>“I’ll be out in a sec, Mom!” he called over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw his mother walking into the room. “Oops, sorry for yelling at you.”</p><p>His mom shrugged.</p><p>“I had a question for you. Your birthday is coming up quick and I have no idea what you want. I can’t believe my youngest son is going to be sixteen. That’s not okay. Look at this! We’re just about the same height!” She stood next to him and put a hand to the top of his head. “This should be illegal. Yamato bypassed me when he was like, fourteen, but you’re my little one! You’re supposed to be littler!”</p><p>Takeru laughed, ducking away when she messed up his hair.</p><p>“Uh, sorry, I guess?” He wasn’t sorry at all. “But if you want to get me a new notebook, that would be great.”</p><p>Natsuko huffed at him, her tone turning sly when she replied.</p><p>“Are you going to write all about the last six months? I know most of your writing comes from stuff that happens in real life.”</p><p>Takeru flushed.</p><p>“Uh. The opposite actually.” His current notebook was filled to the brim with horror. He always journaled, and that habit had stayed throughout his memory loss periods. Writing had become a blur of negative emotions and looking back at such destructive thoughts made him feel sick. “I think I’m going to burn the one I have now.”</p><p>His mother was a little taken aback but didn’t fight him on it.</p><p>“Alright, a new journal. Dinner will be ready in five.”</p><p>Takeru nodded and watched her leave. He peeked over to where his notebook sat innocently on his chair. Maybe burning it was a little extreme? Was it really that bad?</p><p>He slid over and picked it up like it was a bomb. Careful fingers pushed some pages over, his eyes scanning the-</p><p>Wow. Yeah. This thing was getting burned.</p><p>There were some things that were okay to forget.</p>
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